


I Promise You, I'll Come Back Home Tonight

by shinyeeveelover



Category: Original Work
Genre: Depression, Original Character Death(s), Other, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-22
Updated: 2017-08-22
Packaged: 2018-12-18 13:52:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11875890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinyeeveelover/pseuds/shinyeeveelover
Summary: A look into the eyes of a girl and her thoughts before she takes her own life.





	I Promise You, I'll Come Back Home Tonight

Standing on the ledge, I see the city at night below my red Converse high tops. Cars rush by with more power and passion than I’ve ever had. Boring people driving flashy cars, going to overused places. I’ve never seen anything besides the tasteless lives of the people in my mists. I’ve watched my parents’ loveless marriage. And, I’ve watched my brother, as he became one of those people good parents warn you about. I can remember the night he was shot so very clearly. Taken from me, the only male figure in my life that has ever loved me. His blood matched the color of the shoes I wear now, as it spilled on the pavement. Two shots in the back by the person he called his best friend.   
I can still feel his tight, loving, hug as he whispered a broken promise in my ear. I can still smell him in the shirt I wear. I still feel the pain of the broken promise everytime I attempt to smile. Every night he’d hug me goodbye and whisper his promise into my ear. After he would leave like a puff of smoke. I promise you I’ll come back home tonight. I can still hear his voice speak it. His smile still hangs fresh in my memory.   
I open my eyes to watch the city fade to black and white and shades of grey. The setting sun stole the color as it died and, yet, still I stand on the cement ledge. Tears wet my cheeks but, my face bore no emotion. Just its stoic continuance. The last I tried to love, danced me on a string. I’m just a toy to who’s left for me. Everything but my red Converse high tops were drained to black and white. Past memories danced among my mind almost making me second guess myself. It was too late to change my mind now anyway. It’s easy to cut my puppet strings when there is no hope left in my hollowed out heart. One step and my last breath was red.


End file.
